A month later.
New World.
Thump.
The sound was soft, so soft it was like someone far away had struck a drum.
Pizarro's raised beast claw suddenly froze in midair.
Before him,
Zoro knelt on one knee amid the rubble, his chest heaving violently.
Sanji braced himself against a broken wall and barely remained standing, blood still trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Farther away, Nami, Usopp, and Chopper were all sprawled amid the ruins.
The outcome of the battle just now was already clear. These six brats who had only recently entered the New World were no match for them at all.
Especially that boy in the dog-head hat. He knew Armament Haki, could take a beating, and his will was absurdly tough.
But that was all.
In Pizarro's eyes, he was still just a brat he could crush to death at any time.
"Hm?"
Devon suddenly turned her head, and Shot stopped the flask he had raised to his lips.
Thump.
The second sound was still faint, yet it seemed to strike directly against their chests without passing through their ears.
Shot frowned and slowly lowered his flask.
"What was that sound?"
No one answered.
Pizarro was already looking toward the distant rubble, where Luffy lay. He had looked like he was about to die just moments ago.
But now, an entirely different presence was slowly rising.
The mocking look on Pizarro's face gradually vanished.
"Wait..."
He narrowed his eyes, sweeping over with Observation Haki, only for his brow to furrow even more tightly.
"What's with this brat's presence, meow?"
Devon looked over as well, her pupils gradually contracting.
That boy had been troublesome before, but strength was strength, and weakness was weakness.
They could have crushed him with one hand.
But now, it was different.
That